Classic Poem

That pleasant Chinese poet Ching Chih Ho,
Who spent his time in fishing with no bait,
Recalled at last from exile, would not go,
Nor leave the stream where he could meditate
And foil all interrupters by his ruse,
Sitting beside the water with his line;
Was it a wonder that he should refuse,
When he could catch his rhythms half asleep,
Watching below the lilies fishes shine,
Or move not — it was all the same to him —
And river-mosses when he gazed more deep
And deeper, clouds across the azure swim?
There's not a roof now on the courts whose schemes
Kept men awake and anxious all night long,
Distracted with their working out; but dreams
He made in idleness and turned to Song
Can still delight his people. As for me,
I, who must daily at enactments look
To make men happy by legality,
Envy the poet of that baitless hook.